


Opportunist (But Not Quite)

by sayang



Category: Bring Me The Horizon
Genre: Drunk Blow Jobs, M/M, OOC Oli maybe, Open to Interpretation, POV First Person, could be any M/M Oli ship, doesn't have to be OC or Reader though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayang/pseuds/sayang
Summary: Oliver gives you a blowjob.
Relationships: Oliver Sykes/Original Male Character(s), Oliver Sykes/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Opportunist (But Not Quite)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: do not show this to any of the band members, but i know y'all are smart enough to know this by now <3 but yeah don't do that 
> 
> i hope this is vague enough so you can mold it into whoever guy you want oli to pair up with. 
> 
> unbeta'd, sorry for the mistakes

It was the drink, you swore. It was whatever in that glass that they were serving in the overpopulated, dingy yet ditzy glamorous after-party at a rooftop hotel bar, that was making your speech slur and mannerism erratic. More so than usual, or less than your usual, depending on the person on the receiving end. Before you make a fool of yourself at a party this big you decide to slink to a more hidden corner. All the while you try to sober down as you venture from one point to another. Even though your mind was cloudy you were conscious enough not to engage in conversation for too long. You hope that the polite smile and the wave of a hand was enough sign to everyone that you were to be left alone, preferably until the day after, as you could practically feel the awful hangover you had to face the next time you wake up. 

There was an empty space, the wall beside the trash bin and you couldn't blame anyone that the particular space was left empty. It felt like such a loser corner but you couldn't be fucked to actually care. The party-goers were guest list exclusive, the closest thing they had to the media were the golden rose iPhones some high listers held in their hand. No need to put up and maintain your image. You felt like you've risked too much already just moments ago before deciding you need to stop engaging with anyone. You let yourself gently into the wall, sighing at the solid feel on your back. The coincidental lighting of the place made your corner shades darker, giving you some sort of private bubble. You land your gaze upwards, away from the crowd to the night skies. You felt foolish, and rather naive, that you expected to be greeted by stars. There were no stars at this day and age, not in this part of town anyway. You didn’t realize how long you were gazing at the dark, endless sky until you felt a presence beside you.

You were greeted by a familiar face. Lazy eyelids and eyes like Prehnite stones. He peered at you curiously but he tried not to let it show. By this time you were sobered down enough not to shoo the guest away, besides you don't mind a nice company.

"Hey, Oliver." you greeted. The man only tilted his head in response. 

"Party's wearing you down?" he asked.

You shrug, "Could be better."

It wasn't a lie, you're not big on these kinds of parties. You even started to wonder why you RSVP'd in the first place. The drinks were shite, or it might just be you seeing how everyone was still on their A-game. Oliver didn't even look fazed even though deciding to hang out beside a garbage bin wouldn't classify as spectacular behavior. You try not to muddle your mind any further and the answer to one of your questions was only a few feet away, so you threw all hesitations and shoot.

"Why are you here?"

He gave a small quirk of his eyebrow before answering, "I was invited?" 

"Yeah, no, I mean.." you shook your head, suddenly feeling silly. Oliver's your friend, it shouldn't be weird he stepped aside to take a breather with you. You were flattered though that he took the time to sit one out with you. "Nevermind."

He bored his eyes on you for a moment before finally looking away, hands in his pockets. He was never one to inquire any further, always cool yet at times not so collected. His stage persona would confirm. In the silence that followed, you felt the air grow stale. Whether from the stunted conversation earlier or from the general vibe of it all. You were really ready to hit the sack when Oliver surprised you what you thought would be the last time that night.

"Wanna head back to my place?"

Before you told your body to disobey your mind you found yourself already nodding. He gave a lazy smile and took you by the hand. You cursed at the drinks once more as you felt your heartbeat increase. You tried to tell yourself it's the excitement of having to leave the event but the warmth of Oliver's hand never felt so comforting. He doesn't let go as you reach the elevator, and his palms were still pressed to yours by the time you reached his room. You didn't even question the fact that he had a room already booked because you were too busy watching the back of his head, the way his earring swayed from the movement, or how nice it’d feel to touch the back of his neck. 

"Drinks?" he offered almost immediately.

"No!" your reply was harsher than intended, but you gained your composure pretty quickly, "I mean, the stuff upstairs isn't doing good things to me."

"Tell me about it," he sighed and sat himself down on the armchair. Oliver was more himself now that they're in private, in the comfort of his own chamber even if it was merely a hotel room. Your gaze swept the closed space, there were pieces of clothing strewn about. You even had to flinch a piece of sock away as you lower yourself on the bed.

"How long have you been here again?" Even if it was for the sake of the party it seemed excessive to book a room at the hotel. Also, the fact that the room was half a shipwreck. You furrowed your brows at a shirt hanging on top of the bedside lamp.

"Just got here."

"What?" you looked around once more. You’re almost astounded by how quickly Oliver could turn a single space into the remains of the Death Star. 

"I got nothing to wear!" he threw his hands, exasperated. That was to be expected from him though, so it didn't really surprise you. You laughed at his antics. 

"I like what you're wearing though." you liked the way his shirt falls loosely on him. It fitted his physique, but then again a lot of things did. Oliver was just that kind of guy. 

He looked down at his patterned shirt, agreeing with your sentiment. He leaned back into the chair, eyes falling back to you. You've been in the game for a while now but it was still unnerving being watched, even in private and by someone you're familiar with.

"What?" you tried to shake away the weird feeling. You swore you felt your face heat up. 

"Are you drunk?"

"No." Yes. But you tried to convince yourself you're not. Fine, maybe you were still tipsy but you couldn’t care less. "Why does it matter?"

"I can't keep it to myself any longer," his hand gripped the armrest. His gaze on you grew darker and you were almost ashamed how it made your heart flutter. "If- No, I was.. Wait."

You watch as Oliver tripped at his own words. He really was different behind all that front he put up on public, but it was an amusing sight for you still, nonetheless. He shut his eyes tight as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. 

"I like you,” he said. You felt your heart stop at those words. You blinked once, then twice.

“I like you too, Oli.” you hoped your voice didn’t waver. He couldn’t have meant what you thought he meant. Whatever games Oliver was playing you’ll decide to roll with it, even if it made your stomach churn and your palms sweat. Your face was hot, why was your face hot? 

“No, you don’t understand,” he got up. His face twisted into one of embarrassment, but he had braved himself by walking towards you. “I really, really like you.” 

And as if to prove some sort of point he got down on his knees, placing himself in front of you. His eyes wide and pleading. You gulp at the sight, any closer he’d be between your legs and with the way things were going tonight your mind was starting to get suggestive. You bit your lip trying to will your entire body to stay put, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart pounded.

“Fuck,” Oliver gritted out. “It’s so hard keeping my hands to myself sometimes it’s crazy.” he lamented, head turned towards you. His eyes still pleading, slightly glistening. You can tell he’s flustered just saying all of this but it made it all the more genuine. “I want you. But you’re fucking drunk, and I don’t want to be an opportunist and-”

“Wait, wait wait. I’m not drunk.” You hurriedly cut him off. “I am.. never so awake as I am now.” the words sounded silly when after you realized you’ve said them out loud but you couldn’t take it back. Oliver’s little confession made your blood run if it hadn’t already. Hell, if this made Oliver an opportunist — you almost scoffed at the term —then he wouldn’t be the only one. You’re still not even sure where your heart was and yet the moment Oliver quite literally threw himself on you, your legs are wide open. You always thought the lad was very easy on the eyes but you’ve never explored your feelings any further than that. 

“Don’t fuck with me!” he replied instead. “This is the last leg of the tour and before we slinker back to our own damn lives, I want this moment to matter, damn it.” his face was red for a different reason now. He was fuming, eyes burning holes on your own. You’re stunned, mouth hanging open not expecting that type of reaction. 

“If  _ I _ even matter, that is.” he then said in a quieter voice, his head was hung low. Whatever your feelings were to Oliver, it always hurt to see him down like this. You swallow all your doubts and let your constraints free. If it really led to this, then so be it. You put your hand under his chin and gently tilted his head up.

“Hey, I like you too, okay?” and you watch as his eyes widened, turning hopeful. 

“I’m going to say this, and I’m only going to say this once.” his gaze turned serious, though you can hear he was still shaken up by his own burst of emotions. “I see the way you look at me, I know a part of you wants me, and a part of me yearns for you too. So.. Will you let me blow you?”

You almost did a double-take. One moment he was pouring his feelings out and the next he wanted your dick up his throat. But you couldn’t be arsed right now, not when he had a hand on your knee.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed out. At this Oliver grinned.

“You’ll let me blow you?”

“Do I have a choice?” and only moments before, Oliver would’ve taken offense with that rhetoric. 

He put another hand up your knee and he worked them to your thighs. Half massaging half wedging them open. You didn’t know how much you wanted Oliver between your legs until you saw him there. But before he could go any further, and he seemed to be in a hurry to get there, you stopped him. 

“Wait, let me kiss you.” he looked up at your words, cheeks flushed pink. He surged upwards and caught your lips with his, barely catching the last breath he exhaled before the gap closed.

His lips were a bit chapped yet he tasted really nice. His gesture was sweet, cupping your face between his sure hands, but his kisses grew hastier. He didn’t hesitate trying to wedge his tongue between your lips. Of course you let him, you’ve made yourself available for him might as well make the most out of it. You tilted your head to give him better access and he really made sure you got what you bargained for. Somewhere between the kisses both of you scooted back onto the bed, making yourselves comfortable. You wrapped your hands around Oliver who’s on top of you, feeling the muscles on his back shift under your touch.

After a groan he pulled away, breaths heavy. You reckon yours were as heavy as his, but all you could hear in your head was the blood rushing to your face and your own heavy heartbeats. When you thought he was going to dip back into the kiss, he lowered himself instead. He nudged your legs open with his own. He thumbed at the button of your slacks.

“What happened to wanting to make the night matter?” you teased, amused at the turn of events.

“This does matter to me.” he gave a sly smile as he palmed you. “And unlike me, your outfit sucks. I want them off.” 

You don’t know whether to be flattered or to be insulted. At least you didn’t have to throw your entire closet open to find a decent fit. But before you could muster up a protest his hand has snaked its way inside your briefs. You let out a moan when you felt his hands on your dick. He stroked you a few times through the little gap he’s made himself in a haste. Your pants were bundled in an uncomfortable way so you signaled to Oliver you wanted your pants down. He pulled at the dark fabric harshly before throwing them on the floor, joining the rest of the contents of his suitcase.

You gave a pleased hum as his hand made its way back to your cock. If someone were to tell you that by the end of the night a very beautiful boy would lovingly give you a handjob you’d probably bet on them it won’t happen. But here you were, Oliver working tattooed fingers over your length, his face flushed, lashes fluttering as he focused on trying to stroke you. When you hissed from the way his thumb went over your tip, his breath hitched as well. By all means, if Oliver wanted to take his time gawking over your cock then go ahead. But this wasn’t what you were promised. You propped yourself up on your elbows.

“When am I going to see that pretty mouth do the work?” you traced a finger over his lips. Also, Oliver had gone in dry and all the rubbing was starting to make you uncomfortable.

He took your hand as a reply and started sucking your fingers instead. You felt how warm his mouth was and you wished it was on another part of your body. Your fingers felt the way his tongue danced, and if anything it just made you want it even more. You cursed under your breath as he sucked on them hard, hollowing his cheeks.

“Love, my dick is down here.” you pulled your fingers away.

“No difference.” he licked his lips slyly.

You swat his cheek with a wet finger, “Fuck off.”

He got into a comfortable position, your legs nestled by his sides. He had a hand rested at the base of your dick as he peppered kisses all over your length. You tried to stifle a loud moan to which he abruptly stopped. 

“Let me fuckin’ hear you.” and so you buried your fingers on his hair instead, and the other clutching the sheets. Which then you realized was actually a jacket so you threw that away in favor of the more sure grips of the bedsheets.

When he dipped down again, continuing his wet kisses over your tip, you didn’t hold back your moans. After a few more teasing kisses he darted out his tongue and licked over the tip. By now precum has leaked and he rolled a dollop between his tongue, sweeping it over your cock. He shot you a look before he finally lowered himself on to your cock.

“Fuck. Ah, fuck.” you couldn’t help but curse. It had been a while since you had a lay, a  _ good  _ lay. You knew Oliver got good oral skills, in one way or another. Even if you’ve only ever seen one of them, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he has a thing for oral fixations. You wonder how many other men wish their cock was his mic, particularly during one of the songs off his new album.

At first he tried to put all of you in, but he gave up halfway and used his hand to stroke the rest of your length instead. No complaints though, as whatever it was that Oliver was doing with his tongue really made it up. Not that you’d complain in the first place anyway, you were aware how some would have trouble with your length. You were content enough with Oliver working his way half your length, bobbing his head rhythmically. When the room wasn’t filled with your muttering of a stream of curses it was of your heavy breathing. 

Oliver started to pick up his pace, his movements going faster. Your grip on his hair tightened, you’d apologize if it might hurt him if only you could spare a moment from moaning. You watch the way your dick would disappear inside his mouth. His lips were slick from spit and precum, cheeks hollowed, brows furrowed, and he never looked so beautiful before. His long lashes flutter when you thrust your hip to meet his mouth. He gripped a hand on your hip but the effort was in vain as you got the stronger advantage.

“Nggh. Oli, fuck yes.” you fucked his mouth harder. He shut his eyes, trying not to choke as more of your length was forced inside him. You felt a familiar gut feeling. The sensation and just watching Oliver try to devour your cock was really undoing you. You held onto the back of his head as you thrust upwards. You could even feel his grunts. As if that wasn’t enough indication of his growing uneasiness you felt his nails dug deeper on your hips.

“S-sorry, fuck, I’m close.” at the very least you had the audacity to warn him. You loosen your grip on his hair, favoring brushing your fingers through his surprisingly soft locks. He lifted his head with a loud pop. Face visibly annoyed, but like the good sport he was he still pumped your cock through the whole ordeal. 

“Cum on my face,” he said between hard pants. Eyelids heavy and mouth slack open. 

It didn’t take long for you to shoot your load on his face. He tugged at your dick a few times, and at the last one you helped direct it towards his face. When the first spurt hit his face he opened his mouth, tongue lolling down, eyes rolled back. Fuck, and to think to be able to have your cum all over his signature ahegao selfie face would remain a dream. You assisted in making sure none of it would shoot to his eye area, seeing as he was keen on keeping his eyes open that way. After you were spent you fall back on the bed. You felt Oliver lap on your cock, which was starting to get soft. It was a bit too soon for comfort though so you cringed from oversensitivity.

“Oli, stop.” you try to push him away weakly. Your gaze locked on Oliver’s, who was looking at you through his long lashes. He was mouthing the tip of your cock, to which when he pulled away left a trail of saliva. While you were still trying to even your breath Oliver sat up. There was a noticeable bulge on his pants. He spread his legs and started palming it through the slacks. 

“C’mere,” you murmur and he sat himself down beside you, unzipping his pants. His briefs were already damp and you’re a bit guilty that you didn’t offer him your services. You could’ve settled for some frottage action. 

Honestly, you were tired. Early on when you admitted you were ready to hit the sack you really meant it. And now that Oliver had probably sucked what little remaining life force you had out of you it was hard enough to stay awake. But you forced yourself to stay up to stroke Oliver. He should be close by now, you’d reckon. But somehow, sometime along the way, you were lulled to sleep. Even with Oliver’s cute panting and his pink cock twitching between your fingers, your own fatigue caught up with you much faster. By the time you opened your eyes again it was already bright from the windows outside.

It took you a long moment to remember what had happened. When you remembered about Oliver you sat up quickly, only to be hit by the worst fucking headache you’ve ever had. You swayed on your seat, hands braced for balance. Slowly but surely you cracked your eyes open again. The room felt brighter from the fact that it was spotless, and by that it meant all of the articles of clothing strewn about just last night were all gone. Your own pants were draped by the armchair. Did he leave you here?

You huffed back into the bed, which proved to be a horrible choice seeing as your head started to pound again. As your head lolled to the side lazily you saw a glass of water and a pack of aspirin left by the bedside table. Your heart felt tickled by the aftercare Oliver had left for you, even if it didn’t fully heal the wounds of being left to wake up alone. 

You let yourself rest some more, hoping the sleep would take away the headache. Another 30 minutes had passed and as you sat up for the second time it didn’t feel as hellish as it did before. You took the aspirin still, thanking the gods while at it just to spite the absent room owner. It was only after you gulped down the medicine that you noticed a scribble on the hotel note.

_ Came on your chest, cleaned it up after. Thanks for last night. _

_ X, O.  _

"Fuck that guy." and you hoped that you do, the next time you guys see each other.

**Author's Note:**

> the song i was referring to was sugar honey ice & tea. inspirational mic work on that one during live shows


End file.
